


softened words and ill omens

by perrstein



Series: Prohibition AU [4]
Category: Steven Universe - Fandom
Genre: (original) character death, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Attempted Assault, Gen, a lot of why Lapis is the way she is originates from these memories, all aboard the Suffering express, all.....yeah no all named adults in this are queer as hell, and a whole lot of poorly handled trauma, blink and you'll miss it boning, funnily enough queer people did exist a hundred years ago. who would've thought?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:38:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8982151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perrstein/pseuds/perrstein
Summary: There are a few memories that shape who a person will become. These are some of Lapis Lazuli's most influential memories, snapshots of a life lived by someone surrounded by love and bad luck.





	

**Author's Note:**

> There's a very brief attempted sexual assault mention in one of the memories when Lapis is 16, but it's deliberately short and hazy and it stops immediately because Lapis smashes the guy's face in. I'd rather be upfront about that now in case that could be upsetting, as the key takeaway from that memory isn't the assault itself. Skip over 1918 if that's the case.
> 
> Italics used within dialogue is used to mark what's spoken in Cantonese.

_“You tried to change, didn’t you?_

_Closed your mouth more,_

_Tried to be softer, prettier,_

_Less volatile, less awake_

_You can’t make homes out of human beings._

_Someone should have already told you that.”_

_-_ Warshan Shire, _For Women Who Are Difficult To Love_

 

**Late Summer, 1902: Age Six**

 

An unusual, lazy heat clung to San Francisco in its mid-morning glory, blanketing the low-lying areas of the city and its outskirts. Lapis sat tucked away on the bench surrounded by flora in her backyard, eyes locked on the glass smooth surface of the brook running through the yard as her grandmother puttered around the bed of peonies that she kept. The gentle breeze toying at the edges of her waist-length hair rippled the surface; movement in just a few sections of the rill served as the only indicator of the quick moving water it had to offer. She had lost quite a few trinkets to its deceptively strong current over the edge of the time-worn footbridge, and spent more than her fair share of free days frolicking in it with all the privacy their yard afforded them. Absentmindedly, she rubbed her itching palms on the fine fabric making up the skirt of her slightly overlong formal dress, and yearned to plead to her father to let her stay home with her grandmother and avoid the fuss that going to church always caused.

 

It took the echoed chiming of the grandfather clock -- breaking the silence as sound spilled out of the house marking the fresh hour -- to stir Lapis from her reverie. With a sigh far more suited to a world-wearied adult, she rocked her legs over the bench’s edge a few more times before hopping off and following the short path back inside her family’s home. Only the small quirk of her grandmother’s mouth as Lapis passed her by signaled that her absence was noted. Slipping inside as silence reclaimed her home, she started the familiar path to her mother’s room.

 

Through the kitchen and past the grandfather clock in the foyer, Lapis slowly wandered, hand reaching up to trail along the gleaming wood of the bannister as she climbed up the stairs. Any other day, she would have raced up and down the stairs eagerly, but Sundays meant being careful so she could make her parents proud of her. As Lapis reached the top, her foot caught on the last step. Lurching forward, she scrambled to grab hold of the bannister as she began to fall. For a fraction of a moment, she felt weightless, like she was flying, before her hold tightened and her knees hit the unforgiving wood. With a huff of annoyance, Lapis pulled herself back to her feet and carefully smoothed the wrinkles from her dress before continuing forward.

 

Gingerly, she walked past the hanging family portrait and the rest of the way to her parents' room. Each step smarted, but as she clung to the doorframe and saw her mother at her vanity getting ready, it was worth it. An indescribable awe filled her as she watched her mother finish pinning her hair in place. Her mother smiled, beautiful and distracted, and patted the chaise next to her vanity. “Come sit, darling. You don’t need to lurk in the doorway,” she said.

 

Not needing to be prompted twice, Lapis moved and settled herself onto the chaise as properly as she could. Her legs swung slightly, the bottom of her feet not quite reaching the floor. Wide-eyed, Lapis watched her mother apply makeup with a practiced hand. Here the sweep of a dark pencil around pale eyes; there the merest dab of rouge. Gaze drifting away, Lapis toyed with the soft gloves her mother had set to the side. That pair was one of her mother’s favorites, and on impulse, she carefully slipped one on. The fabric was loose, much too large for a child’s hands, and she wriggled her fingers to try to make them fit as comfortably as she could.

 

A clink made Lapis look up; her mother watched her with amusement while pulling on the glove Lapis wasn’t playing with. “What a little lady you are! Would you like gloves of your own, my darling?” Joy building in her chest, it was all Lapis could do to nod as her smiling mother pulled her into a hug, The moment felt like a dream, her mother was focused enough to actually see her. She tucked Lapis under her chin, her tight grip leaking apologies and affection. Three sharp knocks disturbed them, her mother’s grip loosening as Lapis watched the nurse intrude with a plain tray carrying her mother’s medicine.

 

“Miss Violet,” the nurse said, “it’s time for your next dose, as the doctor ordered.”

 

Lapis watched her mother’s eyes close briefly and could feel resigned acceptance radiating out. “Yes, of course.” The tightness around her mother’s eyes and mouth smoothed, and her attention briefly shifted back to Lapis. “Go wait for your father with your grandmother, okay?”

 

Her chest tightened, but Lapis pulled away and nodded. “Yes, mum.” Head bowed, she left the room. Looking back, the last thing she saw was the nurse setting the tray down as her mother gazed out the window.

 

**Early Spring, 1905: Age Eight**

 

Dawn slowly lit the chilled sky, the clock sounding the half chime to mark six-thirty in the morning. Lapis bundled her jacket tighter around her body, fumbling at the clasps with her clumsy gardening gloves. She finished chewing and swallowed the last of her quick breakfast, and looked to her grandmother for instruction. Leung Wing Hei stood to her full height, her light jacket and thick gloves adding to the commanding air surrounding her. She gave the smallest quirk of her lips as she surveyed the yard and decided what work would be occurring that day. Having made up her mind, she turned to Lapis.

  
" _Ah mui_ , start with pulling weeds and the vegetable skeletons in the garden beds. Don’t forget to take out any dead leaves. I will be pruning the bushes and raking.” Wing Hei nodded to herself, pausing to ruffle Lapis’ hair before setting to work. Lapis watched as her grandmother set to work without hesitation, and thought of her as a queen in her domain. Taking a moment to rub the sleep out of her eyes, Lapis started her own work. This was the first year her grandmother allowed her to help with preparing the garden, and she was determined to prove she could be trusted.

 

The sun gradually rose while they worked, pausing only once for Lapis to change into a lighter jacket. Before the sun reached its peak, Leung Wing Hei finished her pruning and assessed the progress they had made. Pleased, she called out to her granddaughter, slipping easily between English and Cantonese. “Lapis, _come here_.” Dutifully, Lapis pulled the last of the debris from the furthest garden bed and dropped it into the wheelbarrow pile before trotting over to her grandmother. Slipping her dirt stained gloves off, she lightly touched Lapis’ shoulder. “ _You’ve done well. Come, let’s sit for a moment before lunch._ ”

 

Together they moved and sat on the garden bench, the overhead sun filtering in through the bare branches of the tree above it. Lapis swung her legs, trying to work out the stiffness from being crouched all morning. There were a thousand things she wanted to ask -- she brimmed with questions like the brook in winter flooded with water -- but she kept her eyes on the ground and shivered as her body cooled off. Her grandmother hummed, and Lapis lifted her gaze to see what she was going to say.

 

“ _What troubles you_?” Leung asked, voice soft and firm in her concern. Lapis knew that tone, and it left no room to argue.

 

Dropping her gaze again, she ran her fingers over the hem of her jacket. “Why isn’t mum getting better, _ah mah_?” Her voice hitched, and she looked over to the stream that cut through the yard. It wasn’t as fast as it used to be, but it still moved with vigour. “ _She’s getting worse_.”

 

A low, pained note came from Leung’s throat, and she pulled Lapis close, slinging an arm around her narrow shoulders. “ _Little bird, that doctor is poison._ He doesn’t want her better, he wants a regular check from your father.”

 

Tears flowed as Lapis began to cry in earnest, and Leung didn’t hesitate to make soothing noises, brushing her hand along Lapis’ arm while behind them the high chime of the grandfather clock proclaimed the new hour.

 

**August 1907: Age Eleven**

 

Lapis sat on the couch in the family’s sitting room, frowning at the newspaper in front of her. She looked up to see her father finish cranking the long case clock on the far side of the room, and it played three quarters of the hour chime sequence as soon as he closed it back up. He ran a hand through his hair to push it off his face, and laughed. “Alright _baobei_ , now that’s been taken care of you can get back to working on translating that article” he said, his pleasant baritone soothing part of his daughter’s frustration.

 

“It’s hard,” Lapis whined. She wanted to ask him about his work and how it’s been keeping him busy, not read an article from the day’s newspaper out loud in Cantonese.

 

He grinned as he took a seat next to her, combing her hair back with his hand. “I know, but you’ll be happy for this skill one day. Now, only a few more lines and then we can be done today.” Laughing as she sighed dramatically, he draped an arm around her small shoulders and smiled in encouragement, pointing to a short blurb on the front page. “This one looks short enough for you to handle.”

 

Lapis blew up at her bangs in an attempt to fix them before focusing back on the newspaper. “ _A year and a half after the worst_ …” She grumbled, trying to remember the next word and only continued when he whispered it to her, “ _earthquake faced yet, recovery has been slow and steady. Contractors of all kinds have come to the area to help rebuild our fair city, with Peter Lazuli leading the crowd with some of the most brilliant_ \--” Lapis cut herself off and turned to him, her eyes wide. “Are they talking about you, _a bah_?” At his nod, she bounced in her seat.

 

His laughter boomed at her display of excitement for him. “Oh, _I knew you’d be excited for me_ .” She squealed in delight when he picked her up as he stood, and he made a sound of mock distress as he spun them around. “I think you’re getting too big for me to toss you around like this. _I’m getting old_!” She stuck her tongue out at him, only to giggle once more when he returned the gesture and dropped them both back down onto the couch.

 

“ _Your work is in the paper_!” She exclaimed, pride shining in her voice. She beamed up at him, missing his expression fall a fraction before he covered it back up.

 

“Of course, it’s my duty to be the best I can for our family, ” he said, the weight in his voice betraying the bright smile he kept on. “I can tell you all about what I’ve been doing with my business tomorrow afternoon if you’d like to hear it?” Lapis bounced as she nodded, and his face softened. He opened his mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.

 

The sound of the front door opening cut off whatever he was going to say. The voices of Violet’s nurse and Leung Wing Hei bickering carried to where he sat with Lapis. Clearing his throat, Peter quickly pulled a deck of cards off of the coffee table closest to them and began shuffling and dealing them each a hand. Lapis chewed at her lip guiltily, knowing full well what would come next. She took the hand of cards she had been dealt and did her best to mask her expression so her father couldn’t tell that she had received a rather poor hand.

 

A series of heel clicks trailed closer, and then her mother stood in the doorway, cloudy-eyed and hardly there. She leaned against it for support and seemed rather drained from her day out. “Has there been any news?” Violet asked, her soft voice wavering with exhaustion.

 

Lapis watched her parents eye each other with concern, her father’s voice matching her mother’s tone as his body shifted. He was coiled tight and ready to spring to action if she fell. “I should ask the same of you if you weren’t ready to fall over. We received a letter from Irene’s steward; he’s certain that she just needs time to cool off.”

 

“Right. She’s always been rather temperamental. Perhaps she’ll calm down in a few months or so.” Her mother pressed a hand to her face and seemed to take a steadying breath before pulling herself back together. “I’m going to rest until dinner, love.” She left, and Lapis watched her father hesitate before turning back to her and started asking about her studies as they began a game of poker.

 

**February 29th, 1912: Age Fifteen**

 

The bitter chill seeped into Lapis’ bones as she stood in forced stillness by her grandmother’s open gravesite. Winter was determined to make itself known in a year of so much death, the burning cold a balance to the fever that had ravaged the city since the weather began to cool. For over a week she had endured with her father, the burden of arrangements shared in an absence of discussion outside managing affairs. He stood beside her in his self-imposed silence as mourners loosed a handful of dirt into the grave and gave quiet condolences on their way out of the cemetery.

 

It was all she could do not to shiver in the foggy weather, her mourning dress of deep blue left her standing out next to her father’s suit of white and her mother’s gown of black. Like the guardian statues of old, the three of them held their ground by Leung Wing Hei’s grave as the procession continued, grief-numbed but still standing. Concern flowed through Lapis’ veins--her mother was silent and relying on her medicine more than in years past, and standing vigil in the cold after an already taxing few day couldn’t possibly be good for her.

 

Yet her mother stood unflinchingly by her father’s side, any sign of discomfort hidden by her commitment to him and her last batch of medicine. Finally, even the old priest overseeing the ceremony said a final, personal prayer for his departed friend before pressing a hand to her father’s shoulder, and left. Lapis had known him her whole life, and he had known her father for his whole life. Father Richard Johnson had led their congregation for decades and had considered the Lazuli matriarch to be his closest friend before her passing, even after she had taken up her maiden name once more.

 

With the last of the mourners gone, Lapis’ family stood alone in that section of the cemetery as distant church bells rang, and she thought of the grandfather clock that hadn’t signaled the time since the day her grandmother died. A soft hitch in her father’s breathing under the sound ringing out caught Lapis’ attention before he turned around and wordlessly stormed towards a nearby tree, eyes beginning to glaze over with unshed tears. Her mother pressed a hand to her shoulder before following him, and then Lapis was alone in her vigil. The foreboding sensation of presiding over the grave of the last Leung washed over her like a wave; Lapis wanted to run as far as she could from that responsibility, and yet was frozen where she stood as the last toll of the bell sounded.

 

**September 1912: Age Sixteen**

 

Tepid humidity made every stitch of clothing feel like it was sticking to her. The gradually setting sun implied the lateness of the hour as Lapis hovered at the back of her mother’s chair, watching like a hawk to be sure that everything went as according to plan as she could force it to. She watched her father across the yard as he stood with some of his associates, discomfort clearly written across his face. His business smile was tight at the corners, too sharp to be truly comfortable with his surroundings, and his eyes darted around the yard as if searching for an escape route he knew he could not take.

 

Peter’s discomfort radiated out, easily mistaken as a serious energy, and Lapis grimaced, knowing that her agreement to what was about to happen was what caused her father to be so distressed. It would have been easier all around to avoid this situation and simply continue on in her ignorant mindset, but the more her father educated her in business workings, the more she wanted to help him secure their future. She watched as he slowly approached with two men in tow, one only just scraping past the bar of visible adulthood, and felt disgust at how low the bar for this supposed man was set when she had spent hours preparing for this.

  
Lapis hadn’t thought a church potluck could somehow become any worse, but as she reflexively encouraged her mother to finish eating, she had to admit that clearly, she was wrong. The introduction was so bland she could hardly manage to retain that insipid man’s name and just why he was important, but she could follow the steps of this dance even in her sleep. A smile and her name, a gentle laugh and a light handshake, an appropriate amount of impressed flush at a family name being trotted out to showcase just why he was theoretically more interesting than he actually was.

 

It was annoying in its predictability. Her teeth ached as she kept up the sweet talk. Appearing just smart enough to be attractive but shallow enough that he wouldn’t have cause to feel threatened was easy to manage, but the charade was still taxing. Peter kept glancing at her worriedly and she did what she could to show she would be okay as she left the churchyard on this man-child’s arm, but Lapis was fairly certain that even her acting skills didn’t convince her father that this wasn’t all a terrible mistake. Even if she had managed to convince him, she had yet to convince herself that this didn’t have trouble written all over it.

 

The feeling of baited dread didn’t subside as they sat through a local show, no matter how distracting the performers attempted to be, and Lapis could feel her teeth grinding together the longer she was in that nameless nobody’s company. He was clearly disappointed that he hadn’t charmed Lapis into wanting to share his company for the rest of the night, and when he attempted to push past her initial rebuff after driving them to an out of the way road, Lapis didn’t hesitate to smash his face into the steering wheel. It only took one blow for him to sag as he lost consciousness.

 

With some struggling, Lapis moved him to the passenger seat and got the car going again. Her eyes darted over to the passenger side throughout the drive, a constant watch of if he was going to regain consciousness before she reached safety. She felt a sharp numbness like never before spread through her body, winding its way through her lungs and pulling her down to drown in that feeling. The only anchor she had was the flecks of crimson staining the pristine white of her church gloves, the only soundtrack was the slightly labored breathing of a man who attempted to assault her. She spent the whole drive attempting to find her breath while laden with the icy tendrils of shock pulling tight and sinking its thorns into every bit of her flesh.

 

If pressed for information, Lapis couldn’t say how she managed to drive home and not crash. She couldn’t say how she parked or stumbled into her home, a distant explanation for the blood dotting her dress and the bloodied young man in the passenger side of the car. Lapis wasn’t entirely sure how long her parents held her, just that there was definitely two sets of arms around her for longer than she could remember happening anytime in recent history. At some point her father vanished and her mother guided her through cleaning up, and she knew she woke up bracketed by her parents in the middle of the night. Quiet words filled the spaces between them when her father realized she was awake, a gentle explanation of how he brought that child home and settled things out with his father buzzed in her ears before she nodded back off.

 

Lapis couldn’t say how long she spent dazed, only that things gradually became less hazy. She did know that there came a point where the icy tendrils in her chest gradually loosened, and she spent days crying hard enough that it felt like she was going to shake apart from the force of it. Those days her mother and her mother’s nurse hovered close, as if they were worried that Lapis would shatter if left unattended for too long. Every time her father was there, she wanted to cling to him for safety, and in one of the rare moments she allowed herself to do just that, she couldn’t stop mumbling that he was right. The face he made at that pronouncement would haunt her for years to come.

 

When her tears gradually lessened, the one thing that sharply sticks out in her murky memories was the trip her father brought them out to as a family. Lapis couldn’t bear to look at her best Sunday dress any longer. As soon as she offhandedly mentioned being out of her best dress, he offered immediately to bring her out to find a replacement. They had made a day of it, her mother unusually lucid as they browsed through the different options and she giggled over certain things with Peter that Lapis didn’t think she wanted to hear. As she admired a pair of gorgeous, oxblood elbow-length gloves, her mother caught her eye. She wandered over, an almost wicked gleam in her eyes, before draping a pair of short azure gloves over Lapis’ forearm. Both the quiet murmured “it suits you” from her mother and the look on her father’s face before he purchased them for her to compliment a series of dresses they had settled on, stood out crisply in her memories as a quiet memorial for what almost was.

 

**August 1915: Age Nineteen**

 

The air of the hangar was filled with stale heat, entirely stifling from the lack of circulation. Lapis watched her father push his sweat soaked, salt and pepper hair back from where it clung to his forehead as they both moved to the stacked crates and low table by the entrance. Undershirts and bared skin slick from both grease and sweat, the slightly cooler breeze was a blessing as they rested. Her father pulled his mechanic’s gloves off, shaking them out before setting them aside to air out and rubbed his hands dry on clean patches of his mechanic jumpsuit. Lapis followed suit, and pulled out a rag from their supplies they had left out to dry the inside of her gloves.

 

Peter’s quiet laugh pulled Lapis’ attention away from her meticulous detail given to maintaining her gloves; her father’s laughter was now rare enough that her hands stilled and her gloves fell to the table. He smiled, gentle and knowing, before leaning back against the crates behind him. “I’m glad we have this,” Peter said, “I’m glad that we can talk about business and aviation, that I was blessed enough to teach you how to fly.” He briefly leaned over, and Lapis watched her father fish around in his travel bag until he pulled out his deck of cards and began to shuffle them. The very same card deck that was the last gift Lapis ever saw her grandmother give her father.

 

“Of course, I’m going to be the best pilot in the whole country.” Lapis quietly preened before tugging her gloves back on.

 

Her father began to deal the cards out for the two of them, pride rolling off of him in waves. “You’ll manage that, and I’ll be right there in the crowd with your mother, watching you receive an award for it.” Lapis hummed quietly, looking off towards the airstrip as she fiddled with the cards she held in her gloved hands. “Lapis, you’re the best daughter your mother and I could have dreamed for.”

 

A pained noise sounded low in Lapis’ throat before she could muffle it. “I ruined a lot for the both of you. I…” She looked at her father, and saw the sharp pain splashed across his face, “Had I been a boy, you would’ve had the perfect heir, by both American and Chinese standards.” With a shuddering breath, she looked away. “I’ve heard what people say--I’m the end of the family line. You’ve put too much effort into educating me and not enough into finding a capable son-in-law.”

 

The silence stretched between them, Lapis scared to face her father with that pain aired out between them for the first time, only to be startled when he sat next to her and pulled her close. He tucked her under his chin, cards slipping through her clumsy fingers as she pulled into herself. “ _Baobei_ , you are all I’ve ever wanted, all I hoped for. Traditions and expectations mean nothing in the face of your beautiful life.” Lapis hated herself for the sniffle she couldn’t suppress, and Peter created enough distance between them to shift her gaze to meet his. “We Lazulis are different, right down to our Leung roots.”

 

Lapis choked on the Cantonese fumbling past her lips, a silent prayer that it would be easier to admit if only they could understand what she said. “ _I can’t even marry_ -”

 

He softly hushed her and pulled Lapis back to his chest. “I know, I know. I’ve known for a long time, _baobei_. You’re not all that different from your parents. Had I not found your mother, I don’t think I ever could have-- I don’t think I would have been blessed with a child. Talking about these things are...difficult for me now. I want...” His voice trailed off, and he clutched her tighter. “It’s okay.”

 

Lapis let herself soak in her father’s love, the most he had openly expressed in the years since her grandmother’s death, before pulling away with a watery laugh as she blinked hot tears back. “Don’t think this means I’m going to lose this game,” Lapis said in a flat voice aimed to get a rise out of her father. His laughter rang out through the hanger as he squeezed her shoulder and reclaimed his previous seat.

 

**June 1918: Age 21**

 

Lapis leaned against her mother's doorway, an unsettled feeling of deja vu sinking into her bones. She had spent the morning attempting to coax her mother out of bed for a brief time, and was more than ready to fall into bed herself after expending that much energy. Lapis wanted nothing more than to get away the oppressive emptiness her home had become without her father’s presence. With a resigned wave, Lapis let her mother's afternoon nurse into the room. ”She's still too out of it to want to get out of bed. She did manage to eat and walk around earlier, but she’s detached and unhappy and it left her exhausted.” Lapis sighed, barely registering the nurse’s reply, muffled as it was by the flu mask she wore, as she gave a distracted nod and walked toward her room.

 

Concessions had to be made to keep the family’s finances in steady waters, but the desire for moments to herself was more than enough to bring in a second nurse to help care for her mother. Father Johnson had quietly suggested as much when he witnessed firsthand how ragged Lapis was the last time they left flowers at her grandmother’s grave. At first it had been a relief to have time to attend to the neglected garden, and it escalated into Lapis using a few hours slipping away to go out. Exhaustion bit at her as she pushed open her door and thought of the work that still had to be done in the yard; the rill had slowed into the beginnings of a stagnant pond, and she had no idea if there was anything she could do for it.

 

A brief wave of resentment crashed over her, and Lapis shoved those worries aside for the moment. She needed another night to decompress, or she would be pulled out by a riptide of bitterness. With reflexive movements, Lapis dressed for the evening. Pausing only to hover over her selection of gloves, her hand hovered over the gloves that would compliment what she wore before drifting over to the gloves her mother had picked out for her all those years ago. Reverently, she was careful as she slid them on, and slowly flexed her hands several times before settling on her chaise with care to avoid wrinkles. She could change gloves after she took a brief nap. Things might seem better, then.

 

It felt like she had scarcely closed her eyes before a knock sounded at her door; it was the reminder she had requested for her late afternoon appointment. She almost wanted to grumble from the lack of rest, but she forced herself to get back to her feet and to ease the slight wrinkles away. One last check in the mirror stilled her worries. She still looked proper, but it reminded her that she desperately needed to change her gloves to something that actually complimented her dress. With a sigh, she gently pulled them off, and tenderly stored them away before pulling out the black, elbow-length gloves she had initially eyed for the night. Gloves on and flu mask set on her face, she hoped she wouldn’t stand out more than desired.

 

Whatever the reason Father Richard had asked to meet her, she would be remiss to keep him waiting. Lapis slipped through the house with her bag and her keys in hand, no hesitation as she started the car and carefully drove to the church. The emptied streets didn’t mean she had a free ticket to driving recklessly, but time slipped away from her until she found herself parking. She wished she could recapture the sense of awe she had as a child when they had first started attending this church, but it did feel as soothing as ever.  

 

Lapis stopped a seminarian as she entered the holy building, only to be directed out to the gardens outside. It was too light out for her to truly feel like she was skulking around consecrated grounds, but it felt close enough and left a bad taste in her mouth as she searched out for her family’s priest. She found him among the peonies, the bright colors a sharp contrast from his black smock. His smile was hidden by his own mask but crinkled the corners of his lively green eyes, and Lapis was infinitely glad she was there, even if she didn’t know why he had called for her.

 

“Good evening, Father,” Lapis said as she stepped in close and gave him a hug.

 

“Good evening to you too, Lapis. I’m sorry to call you here on such short notice.” Father Richard glanced around before nodding to a remote bench. He led the way, carefully stepping around flower beds in bloom before he settled onto his favorite bench in the garden. “Your grandmother loved peonies, you know.” He sighed, forgetting himself for the first time Lapis had known him.

 

She looked at him askance, his greying hair starting to take on a solid steel color instead of just peppering his hair as it did in her youth. “Forgive me, Father, but most aren’t so bold to bring her up. I know you cared a great deal about her, but I’ve never heard anything more on the matter from my parents.”

 

He paused briefly, as if carefully choosing his words, and she was suddenly struck by all the secrets this kind man held with throughout his life. “I loved your grandmother. Wing Hei was a wonderful woman, who I was remarkably close to. I had committed myself to the Order and swore to love no one but the Lord to atone for my inability to love who I should have. And oh, I met your grandmother as a young man, and she stole my breath away, only for me to witness the joy she had with her husband and newborn son.” He looked at the flowers surrounding them, grief writ across his face as clear as the peonies stood out against the lush emerald of the grass.

 

“I loved her as I should have and as I shouldn’t have, she was a remarkable woman. I loved her as I might have a wife if not for that physical aspect, and we both respected those feelings and that we couldn’t act on them. It never stopped me from loving your father as a son, it never stopped me from loving you as a granddaughter. But I didn’t call you here to tell you stories or to tease you about the weeks it’s been since I’ve seen you in Mass or heard your voice at Confession.” His full laugh rang out as Lapis flushed to the tips of her ears before continuing in a much quieter voice, he flexed his hand to direct her attention to a paper he held.

 

“I know you need to get out with people like you and find support where you can. This address has people I trust. This is far outside my duties as a reverend, but I don’t want to see you suffer like I did, like your father did without a community of support. May you find joy in this world, Lapis.” He stood and stiffly offered her his hand, Lapis slipped the scrap of paper into her sleeve before pulling Father Richard into a tight embrace. He smelled like old manuscripts, incense, and the rich earth around them, and she clung to him for a moment before murmuring a soft goodbye instead of the jagged tears she wanted to shed. Dazed, she made her way back to the car before pulling the scrap out to read it.

 

The address was a large home in a neighborhood she recognized, and she didn’t hesitate to navigate towards it. Lapis wasn’t sure if she had ever felt so on edge while driving, but not even the longer distance was enough to distract her from her curiosity. Cars lined the driveway as she pulled in, the inside teeming with life and laughter. Just wandering in felt rude, but if Father Richard had arranged her attendance, she knew she wouldn’t be turned away once she crossed that threshold.

 

Stepping inside felt like she had crossed into a gorgeous realm she couldn’t quite place. No one wore a mask inside the house, and she quickly tugged hers off to avoid standing out. Lapis was awestruck at the culture in the house, people blatantly carried on with whoever they wanted to give their attentions to. The sight of two women kissing caused Lapis to blush up to her ears once more, and an older woman dressed in a suit caught sight of her and laughed before she stepped closer to Lapis. She was the most handsome woman Lapis had ever seen, her face held the beauty of a leading man and all the softness she had often longed to touch as she had interacted with women throughout her life.

 

“Is this your first time coming to one of these little get-togethers, honey?” Lapis had to look up to meet her gaze, the expanse of capable muscle was enough of a distraction that she almost forgot to answer.  
  
“I...yes, it’s my first time out here.” With all the bravado she could muster, Lapis hoped that she at least appeared to have some kind of idea of what she was doing.

 

The older woman’s gaze sharpened, Lapis felt like she was under a magnifying glass. “Hmm. You can call me Anne. What should I call you?”

 

Faintly, Lapis’ voice could be heard over the revelry. “Lapis.” With a swallow, she summoned what courage she had left to deliberately drag her eyes across Anne’s body. “I rather think I’d like to say your name throughout the night, Anne.”

 

Anne barked out a laugh, and warmth spread throughout Lapis’ body at the sound. “You’ve got courage, I’ll give you that. If we’re cutting to the chase then, do you want to join me in my room, Lapis?” She gave a roguish wink that left Lapis more than a little weak-kneed, and took Lapis’ hand when she nodded her assent.

 

They wove through the clusters of people and a few winding halls to finally stop in front of a door that was apparently familiar to Anne. She grinned before unlocking it and tugging Lapis inside with her, and pinned her against the door with her hips as soon as it had shut. “Do you want what I’m offering? A night together with no-strings, a time to relax before facing the world again?”

 

Lapis rocked up and kissed Anne, just barely reaching her lips in the faintest whisper of a kiss. “More than anything, yes.”

 

In a flurry of controlled chaos, Lapis and Anne just barely managed to remove their clothing without permanently ruining any of it. Lapis’ still-gloved hands held tight in Anne’s hair while they kissed, her need for relief building rapidly. Anne laid Lapis down on the bed, broad hands roaming along her slender body and drawing small gasps from Lapis as she slowly scraped her teeth along Lapis’ jaw and throat. A murmured “leave them on” was the only reason Lapis still had her gloves on, strong hands stilled her own as she moved to tug them off. As Anne lowered herself to the end of the bed and trailed kisses down Lapis’ stomach, she guided one of those glove-clad hands to Lapis’ own breast before curling the other in her own hair as she settled between slender thighs. At the first press of lips to her inner thigh, Lapis felt her hands twitch and let a low moan break over her lips.

 

**January 2nd, 1920: Age 23**

 

The cold sank its serrated claws into every exposed inch of Lapis’ body, the white coat and dress she wore doing nothing to deter the bitter, biting wind. She had nowhere to hide as she stood by her father’s side, no protection from the prying eyes looking in on their grief as if it was on display. This cemetery had become all too familiar over the years and remained as uncomfortable for her to be in as the first time she stood by her grandmother’s grave. This time it was her mother she watched be interred into the chilled grounds; she was too far gone to successfully recover by the time her father had come home as a shellshocked and hollowed shell of the man she had waved goodbye to.

 

Peter had been back for months, focusing all his effort in trying to aid Violet’s recovery and keep his spread of businesses running, and staunchly refusing to speak of what happened overseas during his time as a pilot. His drive to help his wife as much as possible had left him reed thin; he lightly swayed in the breeze as Lapis subtly held his elbow. With nothing left to be said, nothing either of them was willing to say, silence bore down on them as mourners finished paying their respects. Lapis allowed herself only two glances over to where the family car was parked. She itched to be on the road, in the air, in anything that would let her feel alive and free from this burden, pinned under the unrelenting weight of hollow condolences.

 

Her father coughed, his entire frame trembling as the knuckles curved around his cane whitened. It was one of the most overt displays of distress he had shown all day, and Lapis knew her father wouldn’t allow himself to leave until the other mourners had left first, no matter how she wanted to sweep him away to a place where they could both recover. She had heard him whispering to Violet’s body how he had failed her as he combed her hair clear of tangles before allowing her body to be taken to the funeral parlour; she was keenly aware of how important this self-imposed vigil was to him.

 

The only welcome soul Lapis had seen throughout the day was Father Richard; he came to them now and stood quietly by her father’s empty side. She watched as the murmured reassurances between the two men gave her father a new well of strength to draw from. Peter pulled himself back to his full height, barely taller than Lapis herself, and grounded himself firmly in the dewy grass. His head bowed in prayer as he kept his weight off of his bad leg, and Lapis shot Father Richard a look of gratefulness. He had helped Peter in ways that Lapis couldn’t even begin to aid him. Even as it chafed that she couldn’t help her father in everything, she was too thankful that he found brief moments of respite to truly let her pride get in the way.

 

Father Richard gave a quick quirk of his mouth, as much an acknowledgement of what she meant as much as it was a sign he had caught on as to how she felt about the situation, and bowed his head to join Peter in prayer. With a breath to center herself, Lapis bowed her head for a brief moment, only to snap back to attention as a sense of foreboding settled into her bones. From the moment she spent searching for the cause of her dread, she saw another gentleman approaching them. Her eyes narrowed momentarily, Lapis recognized him as one of the lower ranked lackeys who was always in a too cheap suit. He was rarely left unsupervised by the company higher ups, so the apprehension causing her skin to crawl could only be well deserved if that simpering fool was allowed to show up to her mother’s funeral unattended.

 

She watched him trip over the leg of a chair before righting himself, and she shared a worried glance with Father Richard before the insipid excuse of a businessman trotted up to them. Lapis couldn’t force herself to listen to the words he said, all drivel and hollow condolences passed along from her father’s peers, until finally he shifted to the unavoidable topic he had been shifting against. “...and I regret to inform you that because of your newfound disability and your daughter’s unmarried status, we’ll be redistributing a large amount of your business assets among other partners.”  

 

All of her dread settled into core of Lapis’ stomach and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. The world became hazy with her building rage, her hands curling into too tight fists, the seams of her gloves creaking with the force she was containing within her body. It was too much to continue listening, to hear her father’s quiet acknowledgement of the power he was being stripped of, it was too much to see the pitying glance she knew Father Richard was sending her. Her existence caused this and she was chained to this graveyard; forced to watch one of the few great men she knew crumble into the sea of her rage as she let him lean back against her as pain stole all of his breath away.

 

**October 31st, 1920: Age 24**

 

Autumn was already losing its grip. Lapis had felt like she had spent the year unable to fully warm herself. Her home was surrounded by the warm russet and ochre hues that came with the season. It was a fitting time to say goodbye to the only home she could really say she knew. With an arm hovering at her father’s back, she supported him the best she could for the last time as he signed away the last of the Lazuli family assets. A hollowed ache resonated in the center of Lapis’ chest. Another permanent goodbye, too many in such a short period of time, far too high a count for a life as short as hers.

 

He checked over the last of the paperwork and handed it to the family lawyer. It was merely a formality in the process and a chance for closure for Peter and Lapis. The lawyer took his leave with hurried platitudes as his parting gift, hollow words for the hallowed time of Samhain. The feeling of wrongness settled into her bones. It was unavoidable to leave as they did, but it felt wrong to leave before a day set aside for remembrance of the dead, even if it wasn’t from the culture they typically talked about sharing.

 

With a final look around, Peter slowly made his way out of the place they had called a home for the majority of Lapis’ life. His pronounced limp was heavier on this day, the weight of life left him with too heavy a burden to carry with bravado fueled springing steps when paired with the creeping cold. Lapis trailed after her father, she gave him just enough space to feel like he was in control but was close enough to step in and catch Peter if he wavered and fell.

 

“Lapis…” Her father trailed off, a solemn weight to her name that he rarely used, even in the past few years. “I’m sorry I can’t give you more. I had wanted to give you the world, and instead…” His voice faltered, and Lapis could briefly see the weight of the world that he kept silently on his slender shoulders before that pain was shuttered away once more. “This should be enough to keep you comfortable if you’re smart about it, _baobei_. And I know you’re smart.”

 

Lapis’ tongue felt heavy as she fumbled for the words she needed, searching for the perfect deadpan phrase that could stir him to laughter once more, but her well of ideas ran dry in the face of so much restrained pain. Instead, she chewed at her lip while helping her father down the front steps. It took a herculean effort to swallow down the bitter grief and deflecting comments; if there was ever a day to be the softer person her mother was, it would be this day. A serrated mouth on a day of farewells was the last thing her father deserved, it was the least she could give him after he had signed away the entire life he had built just for her sake.

 

They stood together at the foot of the steps, the light breeze making Lapis wish she had thought to pull a scarf out of her bags. “As smart as you raised me to be, _a bah_. I will be more than fine, I promise.” She shivered lightly, only to be surprised by her father’s gentle smile as he tucked his cane under his arm and eased a softly wrapped package out from the inside of his jacket. Lapis eyed it, trying her best to restrain how badly she wanted to sink her nails into the wrapping and slice it off. “What is that?” She asked, her manners just barely overriding her curiosity.

 

Her eyes tracked the package as her father held it just a smidge out of her reach to tease her. His smile made the burning need to know worth it, and he only held it for a moment before handing it to Lapis. With all the hard-won poise her childhood left her scarred with, she carefully pried the surprisingly soft packaging apart. It came apart in her hands, revealing a soft scarf and driving gloves that were the exact same shade of blue as the ones her mother had picked out for her all those years ago.

 

Lapis blinked sharply, the tears in her eyes burned as she brutally attempted to force them back. This time her shivers weren’t the product of the wind, her ragged breathing and closed eyes the only defense against the overwhelming riptide of her emotions. A sniffle escaped her iron-clad control, and before she could open her eyes again, she was engulfed in her father’s arms. His hug felt more like she was surrounded by an unbreakable love contained in a fragile body, and the reality that this was likely the last time she would be able to hide in his embrace again gave her heart more weight than she wanted to bear. She allowed herself that one moment to cling to her father as if she was eleven years old again; if he was going to break through his troubles and hug her for the first time since before he left for the war, she could at least return the gesture.

 

With her face tucked into the chest of his coat, a few tears slipped from Lapis’ eyes. The moment was broken by the sound of a car pulling up to their former home. Lapis took a deep breath and stepped away from her father, almost relieved that his soft approval was writ across his face as clearly as the inscribed words on the polished headstones they had visited the day before. Her father grasped her hands, an almost desperate look in his eyes. “ _Fly freely, little bird. Don’t fall into my mistakes, don't lose yourself._ ” Peter pleaded, his Cantonese much smoother than Lapis had ever managed with her own.

 

Her eyes widened with shock. As far as she knew, her father hadn’t spoken more than an odd word of affection in Cantonese in the past few years. She numbly greeted the priest who had left the Model T he had driven there idling a few feet away; she said something about passing her love along to Father Johnson as she helped her father into the passenger side of the car. There might have been a verbal exchange with the priest, but the whole world sounded like it was being drowned out by an ocean in her ears. Only the engine gunning back to life jolted Lapis back to awareness enough to wave as they drove away.

 

The persistent breeze ruffled the hair of Lapis’ short bob as the Church’s car finally passed out of her line of sight. With unsteady steps, she clutched her father’s parting gift to her chest as she let herself into the family- no, _her_ \- car, and fell heavily into the driver's seat. It took longer than she cared to admit, but eventually she pulled herself as together as she could. Lapis adjusted her cloche so it rested properly on her head, and with shaking hands she wound the scarf around her neck. She stared at the gloves, so similar to the gloves she had rendered threadbare from constant wear. A few more tears slipped from her eyes and she gently pulled her gloves on. Father Richard had told her that an end was just a beginning in disguise, but as she stared at her hands, it felt more like she was lost and wandering in circles, too afraid to look back lest she become trapped for good.

 

**July 18th, 1921: Age 25**

 

The enjoyable July heat left Lapis pleasantly languid as she prepared for that night’s game. If she had overheard the rumors right from Quartz’s people, the stakes of the night would include a leftover Jenny from the war. Her palms itched at the thought of getting her hands on another plane. It would be entirely worth coming out to Hampton for the night if that was the truth. She knew there wasn’t any chance of her losing, but if she would win  _fairly_ was a question she wouldn’t be able to answer until the first hand of the night was dealt. Until then, all she could do was prepare herself for walking into a viper’s nest.

 

With efficient hands, she steadily applied her makeup and finished styling her hair. Lapis knew that things were likely to go so far south that any chance of bringing the bulk of her belongings was next to nothing. That meant she would have to prioritize what would come with her in a moment of crisis, and her arrangements to have her car watched for a month or so wouldn’t mean anything if she couldn’t prioritize well enough to make it back.

 

A small carry bag was soon fIlled with essentials, and Lapis sighed as she made the trip from her hotel room down to her car. The concierge attempted to offer his assistance, but the two suitcases she carried weren’t nearly as much of a burden as he seemed to believe they were. Or perhaps, Lapis mused, he just genuinely thought she was as dainty as some of the other ladies she had seen at the hotel breakfasts. She doubted that any of them had ever helped lift a car or plane engine back into place.

 

As she stepped out into the heat, the brilliant sunset was a gorgeous sight. It took longer than anticipated to get her suitcases situated back into her car--they weren’t beyond her carrying ability but they were still somewhat unwieldy for her short stature. With a sigh of relief, Lapis pulled a pocket square out of the front of her case to lightly dab at her temples before hurrying back inside. Her awareness of the hotel sharpened without heavy bags weighing her down, and she sighed as she looked at a passing clock face. She had to make it to the meeting point on time if she wanted things to play out as they should. Slipping into her room, she finished getting ready in a flurry of motion. Tugging her short dress into place, she righted herself the best she could in the mirror before letting steel settle into her spine. As her mask settled into place before her eyes, she could almost imagine different looks she had seen her parents wear reflect in her expression before settling into something that was uniquely her. Then, eyes hard and dark, she departed from the room.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun history fact #1: Not too long before Grandma Leung died, there was a literal outbreak of the plague in San Fran apparently  
> Fun history fact #2: flu masks were mentioned because the "Spanish influenza" tore the world the fuck up during the last leg of WWI  
> Fun history fact #3: Violet died two days before the Prohibition began, and is buried on its second day. The Prohibition started on the January 1st, 1920, so (almost) everyone was buying up as much alcohol as possible because it would be illegal to buy but not illegal to have in your home after the new year began  
> Sad history fact: it was really common that doctors would find a woman who was connected to money, claim they had some kind of hysterics condition, and drug them to the high heavens for a regular paycheck. Poor Violet.
> 
> re 1918: the really big things of note there is that's when Lapis gets her initial set of #iconic gloves because her ma was sober enough to point them out. On top of that, that was the longest stretch of time Violet had gone on minimal doses of her "medicine" and if there was ever a time she could have pushed to sober up entirely, that was it. And finally, this is where we see Lapis begin to grow into adulthood, she understands business choices and how to play people to sway them the way she needs them to go. Including her father in this one case, and that. Well, it didn't work out well because that guy was awful.


End file.
